Different Planet

Tony woke in a little bit of pain, like always. After stretching and carefully working his chastity cage into a less uncomfortable position, he looked at his chronometer, hoping he had more time to sleep. Then he noticed the annunciator next to the clock was clicking feebly. It was probably just the usual test, but he'd never bothered to get it repaired the last time it broke -- mostly because it didn't give anything but routine tests anyway.

Then the lights came on and Alice was banging into his room. She had obviously just woken up too: the lanyard around her neck was all she wore. Tony looked at the key hanging there: his only release, when she decided to unlock him, masturbate him for just long enough to get a blast of his semen, and then, after he'd washed himself, back in jail.

"Dick-brain," she shouted, unlocking his dick-cage in one quick movement, "Listen to the emergency announcements, why don't you!" It hurt when she pulled it off and -- an astounding bit of carelessness! -- tossed it on the floor. Nevertheless, a long stretch of celibacy and now the sight of her pussyslit, kept hidden from him ever since she'd locked up his cock, AND her big, brown gumdrop nipples hanging right by his face when she leaned over him, all that had him instantly hard.

She slapped his erect cock down viciously and ordered him to turn over. He realized what was coming and tried to relax, but it hurt even worse when she seized the buttplug and pulled it out from between buttcheeks that still showed the neat parallel welts from last night's punishment. "Get dressed in work clothes," she said, taking off the lanyard and tossing it on top of the cage, "Report to emergency services and collect an environment suit." She stood up and turned around. Her buttocks were lean and muscled with all the exercise she'd been doing recently, obsessively. "I'm heading out as soon as I'm dressed. I won't wait for you. If you leave first, don't wait for me. Close, but don't lock the door." And she was gone.

Three hours later nothing had happened. He was sitting in an improvised assembly room with a dozen other men and women. Only one of them, a woman about 40 standard with bleached hair and perfect UV-tanned skin, had even been issued any equipment other than an environment suit. She said she'd made one corridor run with her unit, plugged up a bunch of leaks with her glue-gun then got sent back to rest. "The breach is right near where I live, so they could have used me," she said, "I know the area. But they told me I was out of shape." Then she pushed up her chest. Even under the loose environment suit Tony could see her boobs were good-sized. "I ask you, what's wrong with this shape?" Everyone laughed. But that was two hours ago.

Tony thought she did look... not tired, but somehow... blank. Eyes a bit vacant, even.

"Hey," she said softly, "You into older women?"

Tony looked up. She was talking to the young man who'd been dozing next to her since they'd helped each other take off their helmets when it became obvious the emergency wasn't going to need them for a while. Tony had thought he seemed a bit shy, pale like he hadn't had his regular Vitamin D time in the sunlamps. Also, that blank look...

"You're not that old," the boy said, leaning over and kissing her on the lips. Everybody turned to look at them. The room wasn't crowded, but it was just an open recreation area. There wasn't any place the two could sneak off to if they wanted to be alone.

"You into fucking women not that old?"

Everybody else looked away, hoping for an excuse to put helmets back on and run out.

"I think they can spare us for another three hours," he said, unsealing his suit and starting to pull it off.

Tony wanted to tell them they might have to put on their suits quickly if the alarm sounded, but they were designed to be quick to get into and it didn't look like they'd be needed and besides he was fascinated watching them strip down.

He was taller than her by a few centimeters, but skinny, where she was big: round tits, butt and a generous belly. They kissed again before any clothes came off, seemed too hungry for each other to wait for tedious things like popping bra clips or pulling off trousers, lay on an exercise mat grinding against each other.

Still no alarm rang. But everyone watching put on their helmets and sealed them anyway. The visors were clear and the acoustics were perfect, so they could still hear, but still it gave them distance from the embarrassing spectacle.

"Doggy style, boy," she told him, when they finally came up for air, "Deepest penetration."

"Wait," he said, stopping her, "Want to see these." He pushed up her shirt, then her bra, scraping against nipples hard like dark brown bullets, nipples that hung in the place of two apples on the stylized Pioneer Tree symbol tattooed across her chest, with the roots meshed into the deep blue veins under her skin.

Getting on all fours, she struggled clumsily to pull down her denims. By the time she turned her bare arse to him he'd freed his cock, a solid, thick tool that was so stiffly erect already Tony couldn't tell whether or not it was circumcised.

"I haven't had a decent cock in me -- AAHH!" she gasped as he rammed himself into her, "Since the Adventus Day party at Chlorine Beach," she continued as he began pumping.

They watched, fascinated, as her breasts swung up to hit her in the chin, speech disappearing into disturbing animal grunts and groans. Like magic, they both came to their shaking climaxes at the exact same time, his last spurting thrusts at the very moment her eyes turned up in their sockets and she screamed so loud some of the suited figured clapped their hands to their ears before they realized they were wearing helmets.

They stopped, sweating, breathing hard. The woman remembered her shirt and bra were pushed up uncomfortably, so she wrestled herself out of them, but didn't get up from her hands and knees, just waited, breasts swinging slowly as her partner recovered with the speed of a young man who hadn't fucked or even jerked off for a very long time.

"So fucking -- uhhh," she was still recovering, "fucking good to feel it getting hard inside you," as if she were talking to someone not in the room.

He began moving again. A minute or so later, when the door opened and a suited woman with a red armband stepped in and everyone else looked up, the almost-naked couple didn't miss a beat.

"Shit," said the woman, who quickly stepped out and closed the door.

Everyone else turned back to looking at the show. Tony had a good view of the boy's penis thrusting in between meaty, shaven lips, his thumb pushed firmly into her pulsating anal ring. A few minutes later the woman came back, or maybe someone like her -- it was hard to tell when people kept their suits on like they were supposed to -- and a man in a blue environment suit with a caduceus armband. He pointed a flashlight or something at each of them in turn. Its feeble beam didn't illuminate much, so they all figured it was some kind of sensor feeding information to the heads-up display scrolling across the medic's faceplate. Eventually he put it away. He didn't say anything, but he must have signaled to the officer somehow.

"Everyone out," she said in a tight voice, "Keep your suits on and line up in the corridor without touching each other." She didn't seem to expect the couple on the floor to pay any attention, and they didn't, screaming and groaning to another climax as Tony and the others filed out.

They saw three other blue-suited medics outside who ran in the moment the door was clear, coming out minutes later with the two lovebirds stuffed into weird armless translucent plastic coveralls. They could walk, because the coveralls had legs, but their arms were forced down to their sides. They couldn't move them anyway; it looked like their wrists were glued to their waists with polarized sticky molecules.

Though they weren't struggling or even protesting, their weird vacant stares and soggy post-orgasmic grins disturbed Tony. As they were led away, he noticed gobs of the boy's semen dripping down the insides of the woman's heavy thighs. He hoped they were in for a short trip: the suits covered everything from head to toe and there were no environment controls or even emergency oxygen packs. The last blue suit carried a sealed translucent plastic bag containing the clothes the couple had taken off and their gear, including the glue-gun.

The officer walked down the line and slapped green med bracelets on everybody. "If it blinks red, stop what you're doing and sit and wait. Don't touch anyone." Her voice worried Tony, as if she didn't expect they'd be able to obey even if they wanted to. "Now report to Decon and get unsuited. Then go home and stay there for 36 hours." She left, running to catch up with the medics, ignoring any questions they might be too stunned to ask.

Alice came home about an hour after he did, wearing a grey T-shirt and denim trousers he didn't recognize. The shirt was soaked with sweat and so tight he thought he could trace every bump on both areolae if she'd allowed him to touch her. Her bracelet wasn't blinking red, so he wanted to hug her.

Surprisingly, she did hug him, then patted him on the butt and said, "No reason this shouldn't stop your weekly milking, boy." She sounded exhausted, walking wearily to her room to get the strapon she'd bought the day after she threw Zora out.

He went to his room, stripped down and got on his hands and knees. He'd barely finished squirting in some lubricant when she returned. She hadn't bothered even to take off her top, and buckled the artificial penis on over her denims, which wasn't usual. Even more unusual, she was carrying an empty plate. Bending down, she slid it under him, positioning it in line with his erect penis.

Usually, she pried his buttocks open first, to see if he'd forgotten to grease his hole, but this time she just steadied herself, holding his hips, and pushed the rubber cock to the hilt. Its rubber balls rubbed his own shaved testicles, now drawn up tight against the base of his erect penis. Reaching around, she took him expertly in hand. With each thrust of her hips, his cock pushed through her fist. He remembered the couple putting on that show in the rec room, only now he was the one on hands and knees and she was the one with boobs bouncing, though he didn't dare turn his head to look back at them. His own balls swollen from days in lockup, the memory of the boy's balls slapping the older woman's pussy as he reamed her, it was no time at all before he spurted and spattered (most of) his balljuice on the plate beneath him.

She unsnapped the clasps on the strapon harness and leaned back, leaving it in as deep as her last thrust, rubber testicles still nudging his now-empty ballsac with any little move he made.

"Eat your cream like a good boy!" Was she getting excited after all?

He bent down to the plate, not daring to take it in his hands and lift it to his lips without permission. His buttocks, still high in the air, opened slightly as he licked at the streamers of his semen. Alice saw he was careful not to let the dildo slip out from between those arsecheeks. Firm, young arsecheeks with fading welts in neat, symmetric rows. When his punishment term is finished, she wondered, can we go back to the way it was? Affectionate morning milkings to start the day (she so missed his lips caressing her nipples as she masturbated him!), lunchtime, afternoon, then at bedtime if necessary? Her boy productive and cooperative all day long, with comfortably relaxed penis and testicles relieved of all unhealthy, distracting pressure.

Only when he'd cleaned his plate did she uncork him. If she'd enjoyed arsefucking him, it no longer showed. She was all business. "My old mentors, Muriel and Staughton, are coming to stay with us," she said, slowly pulling the dildo out of his boyishly tight arse, "Their quarters were in the affected area."

He waited for permission to get up off his knees. "What kind of a name is Staughton?" he asked, his exposed anus winking at her as he flexed his pelvic muscles.

"His parents were Ivory Tower crazies, disconnected from the real world," she handed him the strapon, "Here, get up, wash this off and the plate too."

He slowly and carefully stood up, thinking of the couple rutting on the floor of the rec room. Disconnected. He wondered what it would have been like if he'd had a couple mentoring him, instead of only Alice.

Which beds would Muriel and Staughton (LOL! That name!) sleep in?

And why had she made him lick his sperm off a clean plate instead of the floor, like usual? Was she worried some kind of contamination had gotten in to the colony?